Hwinnen
by Simale
Summary: Canonical gap-filler. Have you ever wondered why and how Elrond can control the river Bruinen? This is my take on how he got that particular power. Two- or three-shot with epilogue. Warnings for ridiculous nerdiness on my part, rated K because I'm paranoid.
1. Meeting

**This is supposed to be a slightly canonical gap-filler, explaining how Elrond apparently can control the river Bruinen. Two-shot (possibly three-shot) with epilogue, still in the writing but will be finished before christmas.**

**A/N: I'm a nerd. My nerd glasses will show through my writing, most notably through my continuing use of Sindarin words. Here are the English translations:**

**Ellon: Male Elf**

**Ellyn: Plural of male Elf**

**Elleth: Female Elf**

**Ellith: Plural of female Elf**

**Any characters and/or ideas you don't recognise (like Celebech) are mine. The rest belong to the great Professor Tolkien.**

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This last patrol had been almost singularly uneventful. Only one Orc group had been spotted and swiftly killed, without any casualties. But springtime travel was dirty business, Orcs or not, especially in the light, drizzling rain that had fallen constantly for the last two days. Lord Glorfindel, protector of Imladris and the line of Lord Elrond, was looking forward to a hot bath and clean, dry robes. If they made good time today they would reach the Last Homely Home by evening.

The tall, blonde Elf turned around on his horse and glanced at his patrol. Ten Elves, eight ellyn and two ellith, all seasoned warriors, followed him in single file. Most were blonde, but one of the ellith and two of the ellyn had brown hair, and one ellon had silvery hair. The silvery-haired one was Celebech, his second-in-command. He was aptly named, Silver-spear, for his skill with the long-handled weapon was unlike any Glorfindel had ever seen.

Celebech looked up at his Captain and smiled. "We'll be home tonight, if nothing happens," he said. His blue-grey eyes filled with joy and love as he thought of his wife and daughter back in Imladris, waiting for his return as they always did.

Glorfindel smiled back. "If nothing happens," he promised.

Of course, something _did_ happen.

They were only a couple of hours away from Imladris when Asfaloth suddenly stiffened. Placing a soothing hand on his steed's neck, Glorfindel dismounted silently, holding up a hand and signaling to his patrol. They stopped, alert, eyes searching for whatever had disturbed the Elvish horse.

A shape suddenly sprang from the cover of a bush, darting between the trees with terrified speed. An arrow whistled past the fleeing figure, missing by a hair. It gave a startled cry and darted sideways even as Glorfindel kicked Asfaloth into a gallop in pursuit.

It took a moment for him to realize that they were chasing a terrified elleth.

Just as he realized, she peeked over her shoulder, giving him a quick glimpse of terrified blue eyes and honey-pale skin as she renewed her efforts. He called over his shoulder, "Do not shoot! We are chasing an elleth!" and narrowly ducked a low-hanging branch that would have knocked him out of the saddle, had he not spotted it in time. As he righted himself, he lost track of her for a moment. A rushing, flowing noise was growing in the distance, and it took him a moment to realize they were headed towards Bruinen, the river that ran by Imladris.

A sudden, sinking feeling in the tip of his stomach made him lean forward and whisper "Noro lim, Asfaloth!" to his horse, even as the rushing grew to a hissing roar. They were nearing the Thelahir rapids.

Even as Asfaloth burst forwards with renewed speed, the elleth ran lightly across a slightly rotted, fallen tree, crossing a ravine too wide for any horse to jump and kicking the log, sending it crashing down and the Elves chasing her to find a way around.

Both Glorfindel and Celebech cursed, reining in their horses and turning left, where the ravine seemed to close.

Some tense minutes later, the elleth reached the rapids. Following the river downwards, she came to a still pond, hidden by willows and brush. She sat by the water, breathing hard and brushing blonde hair out of her face. Terror and panic still reigned in her mind, but a small, sane corner was whispering to her, fighting the fear now that those who hunted her seemed to have gone.

Kneeling in the mud, Celebech was reading the tracks left by the elleth. She had been running fast (marks left by toes only, spaced far apart) and in a fairly straight line towards the river. He looked up as Glorfindel cantered up, wordlessly pointing towards the Thelahir rapids as he mounted his own horse. They set out just as the other nine Elves caught up with them, breathing hard, as they were on foot.

By the riverbank the tracks turned downwards, following the swirling water. Leaving their horses in the care of their patrol, Glorfindel and Celebech walked beside the tracks in silence. Neither knew why the mysterious elleth had been so scared nor who she was. They had to be careful when they approached her, lest they frighten her away again.

Their sharp, Elvish hearing caught the sound of someone breathing and shifting slightly before they saw her. Straightening up and forcibly relaxing, Glorfindel and Celebech deliberately made some noise, to warn her that they were coming. Not much noise, but enough to let her know that they were Elves and meant her no harm.

Apparently, it didn't work.

A small gasp sounded, followed by fleeing footsteps. Cursing lightly, they broke into a run. Despite being clad in armor, they were fast on foot and had been riding for much of the chase. She, on the other hand, had been running on foot the entire time, and even with the short rest she must have snatched, she was tired. They would catch her.

The elleth must have realized this as they gained steadily on her, shouting for her to stop, they did not mean to hurt her. She sprang sideways, skillfully hopping over the river from rock to rock. But one of the rocks was loose. It wobbled and pitched under her feet as she landed, too late for her to correct and compensate, sending her tumbling into the cold, churning water with a short, sharp shriek.

She surfaced quickly, gasping for breath as Celebech, being both the lighter and the better swimmer of the two ellyn, made his way over to her. Unaware of the growing rush of the river as he reached out towards the elleth, he was taken by utter surprise when a huge wave came completely out of nowhere; slamming into his back and sending him head-first into the cold, churning water, arms flailing.

The silver-haired ellon surfaced, gasping for air and fighting the strong downwards pull of his gear. Unnatural chill was settling in the iron of his armor, seeping into his muscles and veins, making him slow and sluggish. He shook his head to clear it, looking for the elleth as he did. The water was absolutely _frigid_ and her clothes were flimsy. And she'd spent more time in it than him.

Glorfindel called out to his second-in-command, concern making deep lines in his face as he paced by the riverbank. He knew from experience that if he tried to jump in he'd just make it worse. So he was reduced to worrying like an old man, watching his friend and the stranger struggle in the cold, churning water.

Come to think of it, it seemed to be churning a bit more than it should…

_Oh Valar…_

This was _bad._

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**A/N: There. First chapter. Let me know what you think :)**


	2. River-Sprite

**A/N: Hello again! Here's the next chapter. Everything you read here about Glorfindel is canon, so don't go ranting at me. Standard disclaimers (oh, if I owned the LotR-verse I'd be exploring it, not writing) and all that stuff. Enjoy!**

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Cold mist rushed past Celebech's head, rushing downriver, spiralling up to a point no more than ten feet away. Spray from the churning water rose up to join the swirling fog as a shape emerged from the madly spinning moisture. A howling, gale-force wind pushed him under, and the silver-haired Elf had to fight to get back up. When he finally did, it was only to get a lungful of freezing fog as the shape howled in rage.

"She is mine!" is shrieked, and only then did he see that the elleth had been lifted up on a pillar of muddy river water, almost encased in the murky, liquid tendrils.

Glorfindel strode forwards, down to the riverbank, as he drew his sword. It glittered in the low afternoon light, even more so as miniscule droplets of moisture settled on the steel. Suddenly he was no longer a Lord and a Captain, but a Balrog-slayer, fearless and strong in the face of danger.

The golden-haired Elf stared at the apparition in the river and the elleth trapped by it for a moment before speaking, his voice deep and authorative.

"She is a free elleth," he said. "You will let her go!"

"Never!" the river-sprite hissed. "She is mine, and you are a fool to oppose me!"

Glorfindel raised his sword and stepped into the water. A strange light flickered around him, and where the rays hit the river-sprite, it recoiled, holes and tunnels appearing in the water. A hiss like billowing steam escaped from the creature's lips.

"I am Lord Glorfindel of Imladris. I slew a Balrog at the Fall of Gondolin and was sent back from the Halls of Mandos by the Valar themselves. I guard Lord Elrond and all who dwell within his domain. We are within the borders and you have taken an innocent Elleth captive. _Let. Her. Go._"

The river-sprite howled in rage and denial, but the murky, icy cage was wavering and diminishing, before disappearing completely and dropping the elleth into the water with a loud splash. Celebech willed his numb limbs into action, swimming sluggishly over to her. He grasped her hand, then her head, and pulled her carefully towards the riverbank. Glorfindel met him where the water was waist deep, taking the elleth in one arm and assisting his friend with the other. The rest of the patrol caught up with them then, almost dragging all three out of the water in their hurry.

Some hectic minutes later both the golden-haired and the silver-haired ellyn had changed to dry (but not, Glorfindel noted, clean) clothes. Baraew, the brown-haired elleth, had changed the mysterious elleth into a set of her own clothes and was tending to her along with their Healer.

Glorfindel went over to them, crouching down to study the elleth more closely. Her face was fine-boned and delicate, her skin smooth. Her breath was calm and easy though a little shallow and her eyes moved restlessly beneath closed lids. But the slight glow that surrounds all Elves was weak, diluted somehow, around her. She wasn't exactly fading, but there was _something_ terribly wrong with her. His Healer's instincts itching, he let some of his own light shine on her, only to see hers flicker and change, like light playing on rocks beneath the water.

Baraew and the Healer had noticed this as well, and were discussing what it could be. Glorfindel joined in as Celebech began readying the group for departure.

"Whatever it is, it is bad. Far beyond my skill," the Healer said. Baraew nodded.

"There is no physical damage we can see, only hypothermia," she said.

Glorfindel looked thoughtfully from the river to the elleth and back again.

"She was taken by a malevolent spirit, and while it did not touch her, many spirits do not need to." He paused. "And yet… this one was not altogether evil, but angry," Baraew and the Healer nodded.

"It seemed to want her and only her," the brown-haired elleth offered. Glorfindel gave a thoughtful nod.

Just then Celebech came over. "My Lord, we are ready to leave once you give the word," he said. Then his gaze fell on the elleth.

"Is she supposed to be that colour?" he asked. Alarmed, they looked down at her. Her skin had taken on a ghastly blue-ish grey pallor, her lips slowly turning purple from cold.

Glorfindel rose. "We make for Rivendell," he said, his voice commanding. "Celebech, you lead the patrol. I will take the elleth and ride. We need to get her to Lord Elrond," the Healer rose as well.

"But my Lord, it will be a death ride," he protested. Glorfindel nodded grimly. "I know. But we have no choice, if we wish to save her. It all rests now on her will to survive," he mounted Asfaloth even as the elleth was set in the saddle. Holding her in front of him, he spurred his Elf-steed into a canter, leaving Celebech and his patrol behind.

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**A/N: Yep, that's it for now. For those of you who didn't quite get the "death ride" thing, it's when you take a seriously ill or injuried person and ride hard for a long time to get him/her to a Healer. It doesn't always work, hence the name. **


End file.
